


i'll take you on a ride (if you can keep our secret)

by stylinscn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blood, Bottom Louis, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Humiliation, M/M, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Rimming, Top Harry, not much seriously, only mildly don't worry, tattoo's bleed it happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:24:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5355722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylinscn/pseuds/stylinscn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben had just informed him he would be receiving a tattoo. Live. In front of people. Many people. And the first thing that came to his mind in that moment was, “Why and how am I already getting hard?”</p><p>Or a canon fic in which Harry has a major pain kink and Louis uses that to his advantage. Pure smut. Basically the pain kink fic everyone wanted following the boys appearance on the Late Late Show last night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll take you on a ride (if you can keep our secret)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slowtwilights (andsometimesyoufly)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andsometimesyoufly/gifts).



> **disclaimer: I do not own and am not/will never be affiliated with One Direction or any character mentioned in this story. This is all pure fiction and all rights belong to whoever they belong to (it's not me though thank god).**  
>  Also I'm so sorry this is unbetaed and was actually for real written in one night, it is not my best writing but I liked the idea so I hope you enjoy!

Ever since he was young, he had always been addicted to the feeling of well, _feeling_. Nasty playground battle wounds and the scars and bruises were just facets of the childhood Harry Styles had been blessed with and each feeling brought on by one, never drove him to tears or to his mother. In fact, playground wounds were his pride and joy - even presenting a cut on his leg, in desperate need of stitches, for show and tell one afternoon. 

And it was no different now. At the fine age of twenty one years old, Harry still loves the feeling. Maybe not the sensation of immense pain, like when he had tripped and torn a ligament in his knee on stage, but soft and subtle types always did him in. Trivial matters like a full body burning workout were parts of Harry’s life he could never see himself letting go of, just because of how fantastic they felt. Maybe it wasn’t full arousal, but he knew that every since he was young, pain felt _good_ and it was much more than just a satisfying numb feeling. 

It was times like these in which Harry wished his clandestine experiences had never occured, because they had only further contributed to his love for pain. He definitely didn’t leak precome all over the inside of his brand new trackies while his was being inked slowly with the words 17BLACK. He was disappointed to say the least when the artist pulled away and wiped off the excess blood around the fresh tattoo. Harry was even more surprised when he didn’t moan his way through a photoshoot as they placed tight clothespins on his cheeks. Maybe they covered the red hue that has spread through his face, but they were unable to shield his glassy stare. Harry was gone for it only five minutes in and had to get himself off in the bathroom when they took a water break. It wasn’t a coincidence that had to dig his nails into his thighs with one hand as the other roughly stroked his cock when he was alone. It couldn’t be a coincidence, everything always added up to sex, pain, and sex and pain together. 

And now, Ben had just informed him he would be receiving a tattoo. Live. In front of people. Many people. And the first thing that came to his mind in that moment was, “Why and how am I already getting hard?”. 

“Sorry?” Louis choked on his pastry, and Liam’s eyes had widened to the size of golf balls. 

Harry blushed a beautiful scarlet, “I-uh, excited. I am already getting excited.” He stammered, while simultaneously playing with the brass rings on his fingers and refusing to meet their gaze. There was no way he had said that aloud. 

Liam seemed satisfied with the correction, but Louis’ eyebrows had raised and weren’t planning to move anytime soon. “Styles, you better not pull anything tonight.” He could hear Ben say from behind, who was intently staring at him like a father would while scolding his son. 

It didn’t register, though, and Harry only signed a quick realize and waiver before walking out of the conference room with Liam at his heels. 

“I can’t believe you agreed Harry.” Liam shook his head. 

Louis interrupted with a loud yell from down the hall, “Oi! You better explain that.” 

Liam only continued, “You know that can’t make you do things with your body that you don’t want to do and if this is crossing the line, all you have to do is say the word and I’m sure they will figure something - ” 

“Yes Liam, thank you. He understands now will you give us a moment alone please, I’m dying to talk to Harry about our extremely kinky sex life.” Louis bites sarcastically, and Liam shoots him with a disgusted look before stopping in his tracks and turning down the hall. 

“Try not to ruin the surprise for Niall, if either of you tell him I swear!” Liam yells as the two disappear down the hall. 

There’s a pregnant pause in which Louis focuses his gaze on younger eyes and decidedly does not move. 

“May I help you?” 

You can tell my why you were getting hard in Ben Winston’s office at the mention of a tattoo.” Louis had always been one to just get straight to the point. It was no different this time around. 

“I didn’t.” 

“You did.” Louis bites, “And you're going to tell me, your boyfriend, why. Now.” 

“I didn’t say it Louis, no need to worry.” Harry turns down the corner and hops into the car waiting to take him back to a hotel nearby, but Louis follows - closer this time. 

“But you did! And I want to know.” Louis nags through the car ride and despite Harry’s vehement denials, he doesn’t seem to be getting through. 

It’s only when they walk into their shared hotel room and Harry slams Louis’ small body against the door and drops to his knees, that Louis lips finally stop moving and his mouth hangs open in an O. 

\- - - 

“Okay, don’t freak out though.”

“I won’t just tell me! You’re making this a lot worse than it needs to be.” Louis drumming at his things with his fingertips and they’re at dinner. He’s been waiting two days to hear Harry say it. 

“It’s just, I don’t know how you’ll react. I’ve never told anyone!” 

“Fucking say it before I walk over there and make you.” Louis fixes Harry with a stare to rival that of the devil himself. They were already receiving worried looks from people at the tables around them. 

“Isortofhaveathingforpain.” Harry’s words mix together and he promptly shoves a bite of spaghetti into his mouth so Louis can’t force him to respond immediately. “I have a thing. For pain, specifically.” 

“So you like pain?” Louis raises his eyebrows, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. 

“It’s not just that I like it, I - ” Harry struggles to word it correctly, “I like sex. I like pain. I like pain and sex together and pain turns me the fuck on okay.” 

Louis chokes on his water, and he has to take a moment to cough before fixing Harry with another look, this time more curious than appalled. 

“That explains my birthday last winter!” Louis’ face is full of realization and it slowly morphs into delight. “But you’re getting a tattoo. Tomorrow.” 

Harry can remember the ‘incident’ clear as day. It was at his Mum’s house for the holiday’s the previous year and Louis had joined the Styles for their annual ice-skate and then dinner routine for christmas eve. It also happened to be Louis’ birthday and Harry had wanted to make it extra special so he took Louis out to a pond by his house around midnight and light candles around the edge. They ice-skated and laughed, until Harry tripped and somehow ripped a cut across his forearm with the blade of the ice skates while trying to take them off. Louis had laughed, but he remembers exactly how he’d felt in that moment. His cheeks had flushed red, and despite the obvious gush of blood, his hard one practically was glowing through his khakis. Louis managed to laugh it off saying he read somewhere that injuries could lead to arousal - which was complete bullshit by the way. Little did he know that that night, Harry had snuck up alone into the shower to lean his head against the cool tiles and pump his cock while pressing deeply into the bandage of his cut. Of course, Louis had walked in on him. 

“I am getting a tattoo tomorrow.” 

“And?” 

“And what? I’m just going to sit there and try not to come in my pants like some sixteen year old boy.” Harry snapped, but his gaze softened when Louis looked momentarily worried. “I’ll deal, don’t worry about me. Worry about how your arse is gonna feel after tomorrow night when I’m through with you.” 

Louis only groaned.

\- - - 

It was the night of the show and Harry’s had been completely buzzing with nervousness. He could feel himself shaking throughout the day and his bandmates realized this too when he spilt his tea all over Niall’s brand new white jeans. He swore to buy him a new pair, although he knows Niall would never let him. It isn’t the fact that he’s going to be getting a tattoo, it’s more along the lines of, ‘I really don’t want to show practically the entire world what my face looks like when I come’. It’s understandable, really.

The whole night is going really well and James is making them laugh as per usual, until Louis is apparently a cat and Harry is now the jealous type. There’s something about seeing the love of his life sit on another man’s lap that really riles him up and he knows Louis can tell, because he’s sitting there flashing his wrists and raising his eyebrows like a goddamn prostitute from the 18th century. Louis has always been cocky and Louis can also take a lot of cock. Harry knows he’s going to use both of these against him tonight - if he can survive through the tattoo. 

Harry wins tattoo roulette as expected. Niall had almost shit his pants and Louis had painted on such an arrogant look specifically ready to taunt him. He knew what was coming and yet he could never have prepared for this moment because he could already feel a hard on through his trousers just in anticipation for the feeling of the tattoo gun pushing against his skin. His hands start to warm up just thinking about it and thinking about Louis so pliable and soft, a little kitten open and waiting on silk bedsheets. It’s every man’s dream and Harry will have it. 

It’s time for it and Harry sits down for the tattoo, taking time to roll up the sleeve of his shirt before exposing his forearm to the rolling camera. Louis flashes him a grin, and Harry’s face is practically turning purple from anxiousness. It feels like release when the artist finally presses the gun to his skin. It takes all Harry has to not through his head back and moan, so he instead bites his lip and digs nails into his palm with his other hand. Louis can sense it, because his snarky smile had quickly turned into a what seems like arousal as he watches Harry’s soft gasps. He knows the producers will edit that out. His lips run over his tongue and Harry quickly readjusts himself while the camera is focused on the tattoo itself. He can feel every time the artists does a loop because it feels like pure bliss and pure bliss is rimming Louis for hours until there are tears in his eyes and he’s begging for Harry to give him _everything_. Harry is now painfully hard and thinking about naked Louis in his bed is not helping one bit. Louis on the other hand is sweating profusely and seeing Harry squirm and struggle is really all he needs. 

“We’re all good, Harry.” The artist says after maybe twenty minutes of pure agony and the camera starts rolling again. 

James makes an obnoxious joke, and Harry can barely hear it. He’s so incredibly hazy and he can feel himself leaking into his boxers, painfully hard with stars clouding his vision. 

“Harry how’re you feeling, you okay?” James laughs, slapping Harry on the back.

He barely registers it, _I feel like I want to fuck my boyfriend_ , “I’m feelin' a bit woozy.”

“Show it to the camera!” 

“Which one.” Harry mumbles, words tumbling clumsily out of his mouth before he realizes there’s really only one right in front of him and he seems to be totally wigging out on live television. He hasn’t been high in years, but he thinks this is what it probably feels like and watching Louis stand there smirking is killing him even more. 

The show ends, and Harry’s so turned on, so painfully and awfully turned on. He feels like he could fuck anything that walks but in reality there’s only one boy he wants to do so with. 

He shuffles up behind Louis as they’re walking out and only barely manages to grit out, “Louis, hotel room, now.” 

“Are you a caveman now?” Louis raises one eyebrow, drawing the attention of the rest of the boys. “If you’re going to ask for something, you’re going to need to articulate. Actual sentences would be - ” The look Harry fixes him with could shut up even the Pope. It’s so piercing and angry, but so full of want as well. Louis promptly motions a manager and asks for a separate SUV. Niall and Louis will understand, they always do. 

The ride to the hotel is too long and life is too short. They stumble through the lobby like drunk teenagers, hands roaming over bodies and lips kissing everywhere except other lips. It’s messy, but it’s them. Everything is too much all at once and there’s no doubt Harry’s going to wake up tomorrow questioning his morals and even life decisions, but right now all he can focus on is Louis and pain. He wants to hurt, but he’s so ready for it to feel good again. 

They’re in their rooms in record time and Harry’s shirt is already off, exposing the bandaged fresh tattoo. Louis eyes it playfully and Harry can’t help but pick him up by the bum and hold him against the wall, just relishing the feeling of their lips against one another. At some point, Louis pants come off, and then his boxers and shirt. 

“Do you know how that made me feel?” Harry pants desperately bobbing his head up and down on Louis’ cock, paying extra special attention to the tip. “Seeing you all dainty and sweet being stroked by a man twice your age?” 

Louis muffled his moans into the pillow he was clutching, but Harry wrenched it out of his grip, promptly flipping Louis onto his stomach. “Do you know how angry that made me, Lou? To see you sitting on another man’s lap like some whore?” 

Louis whimpers, but he encourages Harry with soft gasps of, _yes ___and _oh! please keep going_.

He fans his hand out over the small of Louis’ back and then lowers to the curve of his arse. Harry has never seen anything match up to the beauty of this moment. 

“What do you want?” Harry demands, holding Louis small wrists behind his back, his nose nestled comfortably between the cheeks of Louis’ arse. 

"Please,” Louis slurs, “S’just you already - _uh, fuck_.” 

“I didn’t quite catch that Lou,” Harry begins to part his lips and softly swipe his tongue around the circle of Louis’ hole. 

“Please! Oh god, fuck my already you absolute prick!” Louis all but yells, burrowing his head deeper into the sheets below him. 

Harry flashes him a nasty smirk before open his mouth, “The cat doesn’t talk, Louis.” 

He wishes he could’ve seen the look on Louis’ face, but instead he focuses on dribbling lube over his fingertips as Louis makes an indignant noise. 

Louis whimpers again at the loss of contact and pushes his bum back against the heel of Harry’s hand. “Be patient, kitten. We’re getting there, I wanna fuck you through your pretty little thighs.” Harry mumbles giving Louis a light squeeze before going back to his work. 

As Harry works a finger inside, he can feel Louis squirming underneath him, already pressing farther against Harry’s finger. “How does that feel kitten?” He asks, as a second slides tight and firmly next to the first. 

“S’good, H, it’s sooo good.” Louis can barely contain himself fucking himself back against Harry’s index and middle fingers, back arching up off the bed in a sharp curve. 

It was barely a minute before Harry’s third finger was inside, and now Louis is gasping frantically, struggling to find purchase against the sheets as his wrists are still held tightly against the small of his back with only one of Harry’s hands. In a matter of minutes, Harry was pressing in, his pelvis soon flush against Louis’ backside in one firm thrust. 

“OH _FUCK_.” Louis groans, raising his hips to meet Harry’s in time with his multiple thrusts. It was messy and sloppy, but it was exactly the way the way the wanted it to be. “Mmm, H, s’okay if I ride you instead?” He slurs, his head tilting back to press his wet lips to Harry’s. 

Harry nods, laying back against the sheets with his legs propped up. “Anything for you. Come get on top of me Kitten,” He murmurs, beckoning Louis with a finger. Louis frantically clambers over Harry’s knees and finds himself placing his hands on Harry’s butterfly, slowly sinking down onto his cock - every inch earning a groan from the two of them together. Before Harry could even say a word, Louis hand was pressing lightly into the exact place he was tattooed earlier that evening. He knew what was going to happen, before it did and he knew Louis could as well. His mouth opened softly, and his eyes shut as the feeling of pain and pleasure mingled together. Louis rode his cock rougher and Harry had to lift his hips off of the bed to meet him. Louis just pressed harder, thumbing at the bandages, sending jolts of pain down Harry’s spine. He could feel it numbing over, and his eyes had turned glassy from the sensation of it all. “Looks like _ah!_ , the Kitty knows just what Harry’s breaking point is.” Louis manages to grit out, pumping his cock a couple times before draping his body over Harry’s, roughly tugging his curls as he thrust his bum against Harry’s hips, riding him forcefully into the mattress. It had gotten to the point where Harry was a weak, sweaty mess and could barely meet him halfway to his thrusts after coming. His legs had given out under him and he had let them lie flat against the bed as Louis sat atop him and tugging at Harry’s locks until his eyes watered from the sheer pain. 

“Ah, yes, Louis harder!” He moaned, throwing his head back forcing his hair to be pulled farther from his scalp. Louis grasped at his hair with one hand and pressed his entire body weight into the fresh tattoo, causing Harry’s eyes to practically bulge out of his head as he bounced up and down on his dick, riding faster and harder. 

His eyes were leaking with tears from the pain and pressure, but Louis wouldn’t let up and Harry _loved_ every second of it. After a quick bout of messy thrusts, Louis finally sat down fully seated on Harry’s cock and collapsed forward, allowing Harry to fuck him through his orgasm, the slapping of skin and their sharp cries punctuating the otherwise silent room. 

Harry came inside of Louis with a shout, seeing stars cloud his vision as he could feel his wound start to ease up on the throbbing. Everything was so perfect. 

“Shit, ah!” Louis muttered, clambering off Harry’s chest and retrieving toilet paper to press against Harry’s bloody tattoo. “I didn’t mean for it to - ! Did it hurt too bad, oh god, Harry I should’ve asked you - ” 

Harry pressed a gentle kiss to Louis’ forehead, lazily wiping the blood from his arm. “I loved every second of that Louis. Thank you.”    
Louis smiled and Harry felt at peace once again. 

“So, what do you say you call me kitten again and bend me over that desk, when your tattoo stops bleeding?” 

Harry shoots him a cheeky grin, “I’m game.”

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on [tumblr](http://www.stylinscn.tumblr.com)


End file.
